


Roses & Bacon

by AFCastleDefender



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Loss, Love, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-01-01 12:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFCastleDefender/pseuds/AFCastleDefender
Summary: Star Wars Modern AU - this will be around 6-8 chapters! There *may be* smut! ;)Rey Kenobi sneaks into the Medical Examiner's office after learning that the man she loves, a scion of rumored mafia empire First Order, has been murdered. Devastated, Rey is there to have her worst nightmare confirmed and to offer comfort to the only other person alive who loved him as much as she did. Later, lost in her grief, an unexpected delivery that only Rey would understand leads her to one stunning conclusion.





	1. Chapter 1

In the end, all it had taken was a creatively altered press pass, a crisp fifty-dollar bill, and a flash of her tits. She was not family. There had been no other way.

 

Rey swept past the sleazy security guard, through the double doors, and rushed down the hall to find the conference room. The lanyard and faked press pass bounced and swayed heavily around her neck. As the rigid soles of her heels tapped out a countdown on the worn linoleum, Rey studiously ignored the disinfectant and other nameless chemicals whose odors wafted from beneath a dozen labeled doors and _clung_ rather than _smelled_.

 

Those scents would follow her home, she knew, as macabre souvenirs of a day Rey would always want to forget.

 

Grasped tightly in her right hand and cozied up to her chest was a plain notebook of the kind that any reporter might own. It was nothing more than a prop should anyone question how she came to be there, but Rey used it as a talisman to ward off panic and terror.

 

In her other hand, Rey clutched her expensive smartphone, with its newly cracked screen and smudge of foundation makeup. She had squeezed the appliance tightly to her cheek when she had learned the news that would break her and then dropped it to granite pavers when the numbness in her brain had traveled to her fingers.  

 

She was grateful the phone still worked. The numbers of the keypad were slightly distorted behind the spread of web-like cracks in the screen, but Rey could still dial them. The raised edges of glass tempted her to draw the soft pads of her fingers tightly across them, hoping for a cut to release the pressure of grief that crowded her veins like the spillway of a dam.

 

Instead, Rey focused on what the phone meant. It was a lifeline if the next moments became too much. Rose and Finn were just outside. That phone, with its boyfriend selfies, flirty texts, and emphatic _i-love-yous_ was her only proof of the fantasy of Monday and her link to those who had promised to hold her up on Tuesday if any of this was true.

 

Rey was alone in the hallway. To anyone who may have looked, it appeared that Rey was a reporter heading to a closed presser at the ME’s office. A large city. A shooting. A dead body. Rose’s newspaper beat as the city’s homicide reporter was a depressing and constant trudge through human detritus and anonymous pain.

 

Unless the story became personal. _Unless you loved the man who was dead._

 

The press conference had originally been scheduled at police headquarters downtown. Once the press had gotten wind of the rumored identity of the victim, by tacit agreement, _not one of that intrusion of cockroaches had left._ They were there to crawl on the body, hunt for crumbs, and frighten loved ones in broad daylight.

The reason for their journalistic sit-in was clear.

 

_Leia had not come yet._

 

Rey had been returning from lunch, striding through the lobby of Resistance Media Relations when her phone had rung. Rose Tico had set her own ring tone, a cheerful summer pop song that suited her down to the ground. She danced to it around their shared apartment often enough.

 

“Hello there, Sunshine Girl,” Rey had greeted Rose, waving her co-workers off toward the elevators just beyond the security stand so that she could give all her attention to her best friend.

 

“Rey,” came a broken voice, “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it. The police bands are reporting that Kylo Ren was shot in front of First Order headquarters about an hour ago.”

 

Rey stopped in her tracks, her brown leather handbag, a gift from the man in question, sliding down her arm to land on the floor. She bent at the knees to retrieve it. “ _What?_ No. I…I spoke with him an hour ago, Rose. I…he was fine. He was headed to lunch. _He was_ _fine._ ”

 

Rose let out a muffled sob. “ _No, Rey._ More than one officer confirmed it for me, OTR.”

 

 _OTR._ Off the record. Sources, as Rey had learned from her friend almost always told all if they were off the record.

 

Rey spun on one dainty heel and headed for the front of the building, folding herself into the strange line dance of those entering and exiting its massive revolving doors. The _whoosh_ of curated air from the building and gritty air from the street met in swirling confluence before the perpetual motion of the pie-shaped door disgorged her on the pavement.

_Had it only been a few minutes ago that she had come this way?_ Rey ignored the temptation to think of what was happening in terms of a “before” and “after.” _He needed her._ Rey shifted her weight to the front of her feet and started to jog across the plaza toward the curb, looking wildly around her for the signature yellow that denoted the thousands of hired public conveyances that dotted the streets of the city.

 

“I’m coming now, Rose. I’ll get a cab. _Which hospital?_ ”

 

“No, Rey. _Kylo’s gone, honey_ ,” Rose offered gently. “He…he was dead on arrival. They just transferred him to the Medical Examiner’s office. Finn is with me, Rey. He says to tell you how much he loves you, Peanut. We’re coming to you. It’s going to be alright, Rey. _”_

 

Rey could hear herself scream. She knew the sound came from deep in her body, her diaphragm purging the horror of Rose’s news like it would rotting meat. She was dimly aware that everyone around her, alert to danger in a city so often visited by terrorism and the machinations of organized crime, scattered to put the walls of skyscrapers at their backs until they understood the approaching danger.

 

Rey’s phone crashed to the pavement, followed by her knees. The scrape of cold stone cut through her work trousers. She wailed.

 

Pushing those painful moments away, Rey heard the scrape and bang of a metal door as several sets of footsteps approached the intersection of two halls.

 

Flanked by bodyguards and assistants, Leia Organa Solo appeared from around the corner.  A senator, a matriarch, a widow, _a mother_ , Leia was resplendent in navy blue with an intricate updo of braids that reminded Rey of a crown. The older woman’s legendary grasp on dignity was painful to behold. Others might marvel at her strength, but Rey could see that the woman she had dreamed would be her mother-in-law was fighting to stay upright as she moved toward the moment when she would identify the body of her only son.  

 

Rey thought of all the moments when she had nudged a mother and son together, held a hand, created a bridge between ideologies and misunderstandings. When her hazel eyes welled with tears, Leia’s composure shattered, and she dragged Rey into her arms.

 

“I’m so sorry, Leia,” Rey said as she sobbed in Leia’s arms, clutching the older woman tightly, needing to be of service to her if only in shared tears. “I asked him to get out. I begged him. _He was trying_.”

 

Leia rocked her, gripping Rey just as strongly. “No, darling. _No._ You did all you could, Rey. _Sweet girl_. He loved you so much. You were his light. He told me last week at lunch. He wanted a life with you.”

 

Rey’s knees buckled slightly, as she faced her fate as a widow of possibility. This was no staged drama. He was really gone.

 

Leia spoke into Rey’s hair, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, her words for Rey alone. “Sometimes “deep cover” is not deep enough, Rey. It finally caught up with him.”

 

After several minutes where Leia’s staff and the Medical Examiner’s grief counselor stood back to form a ring of support around them, Leia finally pulled back, gripping Rey’s shoulders.

 

‘Will you do this with me, Rey? I…I know I shouldn’t ask…but after Han,” Leia whispered, her eyes shifting down, “I’m not sure I can.” Leia gave her a tight, sad smile and Rey did her best to smile back.

 

Rey could not speak, only nodded. She did not feel strong enough to look at the lifeless body of the man she loved, but the only other person who loved him as she did had just asked her for a service. A boon. She would not fail her.

 

The grief counselor and an assistant to the Chief Medical Examiner led them toward a room where a large, flat screen waited to reveal the remains of Kylo Ren. Rey’s lungs pumped in anticipation as she listened to the clatter and screech of a gurney as it rolled across the floor of the cold storage room and over to the camera.  

 

An image appeared on the screen, and the two women sank to the floor.

 

Later, after she and Leia had held one another for endless minutes in the middle of a grief room in some sterile and non-descript corner of the Medical Examiner’s office; after an undertaker had been dispatched to take custody of the remains of Kylo Ren; after Finn and Rose had been admitted to escort Rey home; after the alley dwelling paparazzi had exploited their nightmare for profit; after the national news media fed on the salacious details of the murder of a Coruscanti senator’s estranged and rumored gangster son, Rey just wanted to be alone. She wanted to hide in a cool, dark place. She wanted the weight of a blanket and the privacy to distance herself from the world and the day.

 

Rose had refused her at first, insisting that she would curl up with her and hold her friend as long as she needed, but that she shouldn’t be alone. When Rey had finally begged with dry, wrenching sobs, Finn nearly lifted Rose bodily out of the apartment. He could see that more than anything, Rey needed to process the shock in her own way. After a promise that she would text Finn or Rose the moment she needed anything, _that she would eat_ , her friends quietly left.

 

Wide awake, but dazed with pain, Rey lay in the bed that she had sometimes shared with him, smelling him in her sheets. She had her face buried in the faint, comforting smell of spice and leather when the doorbell rang. Rolling over, Rey ignored the insistent sound, closing her eyes against anything beyond the cocoon of bedcovers.

 

The ringing continued unabated for several minutes until a furious Rey finally answered the door.

 

Expecting to unleash hell on whoever was intruding upon her grief, Rey found only a long white florist’s box waiting at her feet. Curiosity overcoming grief, Rey brought the package inside to the dining table, sliding the red ribbon down the length of the box.

 

Inside she found one single, perfect red rose, the edges of the petals painted with real gold leaf. And a dozen bacon roses.

 

She giggled. It was exactly what Kylo Ren had sent her every day for a week when he had tried to convince her to date him. The first box had come the day after she had presented a media relations plan at First Order Enterprises, a company embattled by rumors of mafia connections and illegal investments where Kylo was Chief Operating Officer.

 

Somehow, he had known that Rey would be equally charmed by an artisan rose as she would by bacon and a campaign of constant wooing had begun. She had never asked him how he had known her weaknesses – roses and bacon - but seeing the contents of the box, Rey could only smile.

 

She removed the painted rose from the box and inhaled its fragrance. Rey touched it carefully and reverently. One finger traced its petals and touched their velvet to the apples of her cheeks. Suddenly aware that she was starving, she used her other hand to dig into the bacon roses and pop a candied pork belly rosette into her mouth.

 

_The package could only mean one thing._

Kylo Ren was dead, yes, …but somewhere out there a man named Ben Solo was very much alive.

 

All she had to do was find him.


	2. Boneheaded Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Ben Solo's funeral dawns and Rey keeps both eyes peeled for the sign that she is sure that Ben will leave her that he is alive waiting for her to find him.

 

 

Except for a single, brazen paparazzo, whom Rey hoped had scraped his balls on the top of the cemetery’s stone wall before falling to the pavement in an undignified heap of fuzzy beanie, dad-bod, and broken camera parts, Ben Solo’s funeral was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as anything hosted by the Solo family could strive to be. Drama followed them like an apostle.

  

Leia’s security headed toward the intruder, ready to make the ejection like a pair of referees from a dark spectator sport, but Armitage Hux, of all people, had beaten them to the fallen photographer.

 

Pale and indignant, the mysterious CFO of the First Order had marched over to the man, his fists clenched with the promise of violence, but instead hauled him up by one large ear like a ginger schoolmarm. The man yelped in discomfort a moment before the harsh sound of “Wanker!” rose up from the melee. Hux subdued the squirming man, repeatedly kicking him in the seat of his baggy pants with one dark loafer, before shoving him toward the gates with all the ease of a square wheel. 

 

It was ridiculous. _A calamity._ Insulated by her belief that Ben was somewhere out there, Rey watched the proceedings with detached fascination and more than a little humor.

 

Finn and Rose positioned themselves like sentries at Rey’s side once the casket had been placed, ready to hold her up when grief became overpowering. Finn, ever a lightning rod for ill-timed humor, had snickered at the sight of skinny, awkward Army Hux doing the honorable thing. The sound that came from Finn’s throat was like nasally static forced over his soft palate - wholly inappropriate for such a solemn occasion. It had almost shattered Rey’s careful mask of sadness.

 

_Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh…_ It was too important that Rey maintain the outward appearance of the grieving girlfriend. She bit down on the inside of both lips, sealing the crease together with her teeth to keep from doing so, hoping that Ben was hidden somewhere nearby watching this circus.

 

Hux’s intervention was just the kind of thing that would make Ben laugh with rare abandon. Rey loved when he laughed. His laugh was like catching a hummingbird in flight. It moved fast and disappeared even faster. She was proud to be among the few who could make him laugh.

 

_Rey missed him so much._

 

Every moment without Ben was a purgatory of fear and hope. For the past three mornings, she had ripped open the front door of her apartment, hoping to see another package. She wanted anything that would confirm her suspicions that Ben was alive. There had been no package. Rey had fantasized that there would be some sign at the funeral. Something that Rey alone would understand.

 

If she did not know better, Rey could almost believe that Ben was dead. Leia could not bear to have pirated photographs of her dead son resting in his casket as fodder for social media trolls and news anchors alike, so the casket had been closed. That decision had only served to confirm Rey’s suspicions that the entire affair was an elaborate ruse. Mourners had filed past to pay their respects to a gleaming, mahogany box. More than one of those cynical hangers-on had looked disappointed not to get a glimpse of Ben’s corpse.

 

Rey had watched with interest a few minutes ago when the pallbearers, including Finn, had shouldered the burden of Ben Solo’s remains. She had to admit the awkward press of the box on their shoulders had been convincing. Something or someone _was_ inside the extra-long casket that had been marched up to the graveside in time accompanied by the dirge of a funerary band, bearing him to his final resting place like the consecrated reliquary of a saint on his holiest day.

 

Yes, it was all a well-choreographed production. If it was _big_ , it was true, right?

 

Still, Rey thought, as she focused once again on what was happening in front of her, the officiant was halfway through the ceremony and Rey had not yet seen a sign that she could recognize. A seed of doubt planted itself in the back of her mind, but Rey refused to water it. It would get no daylight.

 

Rey had taken a chance that morning at breakfast and told Rose about the package, wanting a second pair of eyes watching for Ben, Rose had just welled up and asked Rey with stilted gentleness if she thought it might be time to start the anti-depressants that Rose Rey’s doctor had called in after the horrors of Tuesday. Rey had refused. She needed to be lucid.

 

Rey would not share her suspicions with Rose again. Chances were that Ben was in danger and she did not want to do or say anything that would add to his jeopardy.

 

So she had done the only thing she could. She dressed carefully, pretending for a moment that she really was going to the funeral of the man she loved. A black dress, pearls, and matte lipstick were the order of the day. A costume.

 

Rey had also chosen black wayfarer shades like many of the mourners and Leia herself. The glasses were useful in dimming the brightness of a perfect spring day awash in sunshine and itself overdressed for a funeral. Glasses, others would assume, had done for Rey what no amount of concealer could. Instead, they hid dry, hopeful eyes that swept the gathering and the solemn parkland beyond looking for one tall, familiar figure.

 

Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Ben’s height and hair made him noticeable in any crowd. While his penchant for black clothing would blend into the group gathered around the open grave, there was nothing else about him that would. Taken separately, each of his features might seem overlarge for his face, but as a composition, they were striking. Ben was a beautiful man, as Rey had told him many times, and she was proud to be his.

 

The recitation of prayers neared their end and Rey was no closer to finding the clue she was certain Ben would leave her. She thought of the closed church service. Had she missed something there? Anyone could have been in the choir loft, watching the proceedings as Leia cried and Rey buried her face in Finn’s shoulder, but she knew that the building had been swept for explosives and hidden cameras more than once. It wasn’t likely that Ben could have snuck in, even if he was inclined to hear the drivel his uncle had the cheek to consider a eulogy.

 

Rey wondered if Leia had wanted things that way - a eulogy that did no more than a shallow dive into the man who had been her son. Perhaps a more personal accounting would have been too much to take in front of the people who had never carried him in their bodies or loved him through the advance of years and familial strain.

 

Rey closed her eyes and ran through the events of the last hours in her head. She considered every person, every action, and every gesture as if she were in one of those dramas where someone covered her eyes and tested her powers of recall in order to prove her worth.

 

_Scene number one_ …Rey had slid into the limousine and ripped open the door to the minibar, certain that it would be stocked with the expensive whiskey that Ben loved as a message to her. The one with the name she could never remember. The one that Ben had teased her about before drinking rivers of it off her naked body.  There had been no whiskey.

 

_Scene number two_ …During the slow walk behind the casket, a woman behind her asked in a stage whisper, “Oh, is _that_ the girlfriend?” as if Rey had been the topic of frequent gossip as a gangster’s moll. If she didn’t put too fine a point on it, she probably was. The thought bolstered her. _Proudly, sister._

 

_Scene number three_ …Rey had listened to the call to prayer and watched from her place as the heads of the faithful dipped in obeisance to a God who, in their estimation, Rey was certain, could not possibly be interested in the charred soul of Kylo Ren. Leia’s son or not.

 

_Scene number four_ …Lavish floral arrangements crowded the space behind the grave, each one more elaborate, hoping to out-mourn the others and garner their fifteen minutes of funerary fame. None of them had gold-tipped red roses.

 

Scene number five…The photographer. Rey felt the corners of her mouth rise with a fraction of a smile. A smirk like Ben often wore. It had been something to see Hux dole out his own brand of ginger justice. Until that moment, Rey was certain that germophobe would never allow himself to willingly touch a stranger for any reason. It was oddly touching that he would choose to defend Ben in death.

 

And…suddenly _, there it was._

 

Adrenalin flooded her veins. Her eyes pricked with tears of relief. Rey needed to speak to Leia as soon as possible.

 

Two hours later, after Leia and Rey had stood together in the foyer of Leia’s home and thanked friends and acquaintances for paying their respects before shuffling them toward top-shelf liquor and a catered buffet, Rey finally had her chance.

 

“Rey, darling, thank you for helping me through today,” Leia said, her exhaustion and fragile composure plain. “It meant a lot to have you stand here with me. Now that we have ushered the last of the visitors toward a hangover, I think we can hide for a bit. Besides, you have something to tell me.”

 

As Ben always said, no one, _no one_ , got anything past Leia Organa Solo. It was almost as if the woman had a sixth sense.

 

Rey cringed. “I’m sorry, Leia. I _do_ have something I want to talk about. I know you have a house full of people and that today has been…beyond difficult…but I think what I have to share will help.”

 

Leia led her to the base of the sweeping staircase that curled above them like the cross-section of a nautilus shell. Sitting down and motioning for Rey to do the same, Leia rubbed the bridge of her nose and the pulse points at her temples. “I could use some good news. Honestly, I am up for anything that prevents me from having to thank anyone else for their ‘kind and hopeful words of comfort’. People can say some truly boneheaded things when someone dies. Now, what is it that you need to tell me?”

 

_“Ben is alive.”_

[Roses & Bacon Chapter 2](https://www.canva.com/design/DADWsNic2bw/view?utm_content=DADWsNic2bw&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=embeds&utm_source=link) by [Amy Fortney](https://www.canva.com/amfortney?utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=embeds&utm_source=link)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for being patient! I plan on somewhere between 5-10 chapters for this fic. This chapter fought me, so my apologies if you are disappointed in any part of it!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts about Roses & Bacon so far. Is Ben Solo alive? I put myself in Leia's shoes and can't imagine what she thinks when Rey drops that last line on her! We will see what happens next chapter! Thank you for reading. If you are enjoying this fic, I hope you will share it with Reylo friends. Thanks!


	3. Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia sends Rey her boyfriend's beloved dog and an important envelope as the world tries to draw a line under the life of Ben Solo.

The next morning one of Leia’s staff members brought Ben’s beloved dog, Chewie, to her doorstep and an envelope from Ben’s attorneys.

 

A massive Old English Sheepdog, Chewie had been the love of Ben’s life before Rey herself. Having Ben’s dog in her apartment, especially one as large as Chewie, would be challenging, but Rey didn’t care. She loved Chewie for himself. She loved him because Ben loved him.

 

Chewie had come by his name honestly after consuming four pairs of handmade, leather dress shoes as a puppy.

 

“Chewie never eats my sneakers,” Ben lamented when Rey asked why his dress shoes were stored on the top shelf of his closet. “Only the good stuff.”

 

In addition to his penchant for fine leather footwear, Ben’s pet sported an impressive amount of what could only be termed as _floof_. A giant teddy bear of a dog, Rey had teased Ben with good-natured regularity about the juxtaposition of Chewie’s fluffy cuteness to Ben’s looming, dark presence. She supposed that Chewie was Ben’s way of allowing in softness when every other area of his life was hard edges and sharp corners.

 

Rey had never been able to figure out how Ben’s wardrobe of unrelieved black stayed free of Chewie’s frizzy gray and white strands. She was convinced that her sweater would never be the same. It was probably true that even Mother Nature could not bear to mar Ben’s trademark sartorial splendor.

 

 _She,_ on the other hand _,_ was going to need an entire case of lint brushes.

 

No matter how much hair he brought with him, having Chewie with her felt like a confirmation of her hopes. Chewie was excited to see her, evidently feeling as Rey did, that if the other was present, Ben could not be far away. At the same time, he seemed confused and sad. She knew the feeling. Chewie would help to keep her loneliness at bay when Rose moved in with Finn next month.

 

Leia had warned Rey that believing Ben was alive was dangerous to her mental state and she was worried. Despite Rey’s insistence that the photographer who had literally dropped in on the private funeral _must_ have been Ben in disguise based on his height and almost purposeful scene, Leia had been adamant that the last few days had not been an elaborate hoax. While it had been out of character for the famously germophobic Armitage Hux to drop-kick the photographer out of the ceremony, it was not out of the realm of possibility for him to want to punish the same people who hounded his private life as well.  

 

Rey had no intention of letting go of Ben until she had explored her suspicions. Army Hux had never been a close friend of Ben’s. At least as far as she knew. Ben told her that he had a partner, but he had never spoken of who it might be because that person was in even deeper cover than he was, if that was possible. The police had never asked to speak with her after Ben was murdered and Leia had never mentioned anything about their investigation. While they might know who he really was, Rey thought they at least might have asked her if Ben had mentioned anything unusual.

 

There was also the fact that Hux had not spoken with her yesterday at the church, the cemetery, or at Leia’s reception. He had simply nodded with apparent indifference and moved away as quickly as he could, never offering condolences to Ben’s mother or to her. _Did he avoid them to protect himself? Before yesterday, Hux had always been unfailingly, almost painfully polite._ His civility had always been forced, but it had been _there_.

 

Curled up next to Chewie on the sofa, Rey turned a sealed manila envelope over in her hands, the weight of the documents was, she supposed, Ben Solo’s life boiled down to words and numbers. She was terrified to open it. She was terrified _not_ to open it.

 

Leia had warned her last night that it was coming from the exclusive attorneys who had represented the Solo family for many years. “Rey,” Leia had spoken quietly, enunciating each word with great care as she seemed to do whenever she was breaking bad news, “I have some idea what may be in the document. I think you should prepare yourself. If you need a referral for an attorney, please call me, sweet girl.”

 

Rey had no idea what that meant. Why was she going to need an attorney? She supposed it was time to find out.

 

Running the tip of her index finger under the seal of the envelope, Rey drew out the thick, glossy folder of papers from the swanky law firm of Akbar, Holdo & D’Acy as well as a small envelope that felt like it contained a box.

 

The letter tucked into the right pocket introduced the firm as the executors of the estate and trust of Ben Organa Solo. A chill ran up her spine at that word. _Estate._ Only people who had passed away left estates. Her mindset that aside for the moment. The attorneys advised her to read the packet carefully and notify them within ten business days if she would like to engage them or to have her new counsel notify them of representation so that stewardship and work papers could be transitioned.

 

_Counsel?_

Rey quickly flipped the letter over on the couch next to her. The next item was a sealed, letter-sized envelope that bore just her first name in the bold and slanted script of Ben Solo. She ran her index finger over the letters, feeling the slight indentation of his pen on the fine paper. She missed him so much.

 

Tearing into it, heedless of the damage to the back of the envelope, eager to read his words, Rey unfolded two crisp sheets of Ben’s personal letterhead, the pages littered with that same bold scrawl.

 

**_Sweetheart,_ **

****

**_If you are reading this, then I am gone. I cannot apologize enough for whatever it is that you have had to endure since the moment you learned I wouldn’t be coming home to you. Loving me has always been a risky proposition, but you’ve never hesitated to give me every bit of your heart. (I suspect that a steady supply of roses and bacon didn’t hurt, either.)_ **

**_I hope you know that whatever happened to me, I did everything I could to stop it. My plan has always been to love you for the rest of my life, and in that, at least, I am successful._ **

**_Chances are, you have received this envelope with a packet of materials from my attorneys. Rey, the information inside it will come as a shock to you so I wanted to tell you myself. The bulk of my estate, the cash, investments, the penthouse, and the ranch out west now belong to you, baby. All told, it’s worth a little over $500 million dollars._ **

**_Before you ask, I’m leaving you everything because you are my everything. I would have given it all up for the chance at five more minutes with you. Two. Anything._ **

 

Rey could feel her lips go numb and scalding tears rise behind her eyelids.

 

 _A half a billion dollars?_ Oh, gods. She had known that Ben was wealthy, but she had never dreamed…

 

_Oh, Ben._

 

If he was leaving everything to her, then that must mean that Ben was really… _no_. Rey steeled herself against feeling the hopelessness and pain that was waiting for her on the other side of acceptance. She wasn’t going to consider that it was even possible. There must be something. Some other clue.

 

She read on.

 

_**You’ll need someone to help you manage that. Knowing you, it probably feels more like a burden than a blessing. I promise you can handle it. My family and I have trusted Amilyn Holdo and her team to manage our affairs for many years. I recommend her to you without reservation. You can trust her, Sweetheart. If, however, it’s too painful to maintain ties with the people and things connected to me, then please ask my mother to help you find someone else who is equally qualified.**_

**_Now, about that other envelope. I’d like to ask you to open it now. (I’ll wait. Ha.)_ **

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. Ben had such a dopey sense of humor if you knew him well. Reaching for the smaller envelope, the keys to his apartment fell out first, but the larger item was stuck. Shaking it slightly, Rey was shocked when a turquoise velvet box, of the size and weight recognizable to any girl who ever harbored the dream of marrying the man she loved, fell into her lap.

 

Rey began to sob. Chewie snuggled up next to her side, whimpering slightly before he set his hairy muzzle on her shoulder in a gesture of canine comfort.

 

Holding the small box between her shaking fingers, Rey flipped it open, its hinge creaking as it snapped into position. Inside was the logo of an internationally known jeweler and the biggest cushion-cut canary yellow diamond solitaire she had ever seen. It was much larger than she ever would have expected, but it was exactly the kind of stone she would choose for herself.  

 

_**I know you’ll think I’m crazy, baby, but I bought that for you the day after we met. The salesperson certainly thought I wasn’t operating with a full set of steak knives, and he was probably right. When he asked how long we had been together, I told him the truth. “Less than 24 hours,” I said. “And she doesn’t know it yet.” He sold it to me, but not before he read the entire return policy aloud.**_

**_Rey, my beautiful love, I’m sorrier than I can say that I never asked you to be my wife. I had some stupid idea about doing the right thing and waiting a full year. The truth is, I loved you at first sight and in my heart and my mind, you’ve been my wife since that day._ **

****

Unable to stop the torrent of tears that were pouring from her eyes, and the gut-wrenching sobs that seized her belly, Rey could barely breathe as she plucked the ring from its cushion and slipped it on to the third finger of her left hand.  

_**I hope that whatever you choose to keep or discard from my life, that you make the most of yours. I want you to spread more of that special sunshine that you do. I want you to have fun. I want you to fall in love again when the time is right. (Ok, so you can call bullshit on me for that whopper, but if I can’t be there to love you, more than anything I want you to be happy.) It would be a crime against nature for you not to be a mother. Whoever he is, make sure that lucky man treats you like the princess you are.**_

**_Time to go now, Sweetheart, or I’m afraid I’ll never be able to stop. Please know that I’ll love you in every lifetime, in every galaxy, in every universe._ **

****

**_Forever,_ **

**_Ben_ **

****

**_P.S. I hope you won’t mind taking care of Chewie for me. Maybe give him one of my best dress shoes and scratch him behind the ears. I’m sure that this has been confusing for him. It helps me, as I write this, to think that you two might be together making new memories._ **

****

Rey’s devastation at Ben’s letter and his exquisite ring were so complete that she sobbed into Chewie’s fur for the better part of an hour. She wanted to be able to say that she was strong enough to pick herself up and go on in exactly the way that Ben wished, but she wasn’t. She was trapped in some limbo where her mind and her heart would not accept what reality was telling her.

 

An hour later, Rey had just finished packing a bag and grabbed Chewie’s things to spend the night at Ben’s penthouse when the doorbell rang. Chewie gave a warning bark, doing his best to sound seven feet tall, while Rey dashed across the apartment to her front door.

 

Her heart raced in her chest as she realized that the concierge hadn’t buzzed her to let her know that someone was on their way up. _It reminded her of the day Ben died._

Rey snatched open the door, praying to every deity she could think of that the interruption was what she hoped it was. The only thing that _gave_ her hope that this waking nightmare would end. The thing that told her she wasn’t slowly losing her mind. And just as the other night she had grieved so strongly for Ben, there was no one on the other side of the door. Only a long white florist’s box sitting at her feet.

 

And this time, _there was a card._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU very much for being so patient as you waited for an update to this story. I lost my Reylo mojo and had to find it again. IT'SSSSSS BAAAACCCKKK!!!!
> 
> Anyway, I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I ask you again, Dear Reader, is Ben Solo alive?  
> What did you think of Ben's letter? Any clues there?  
> What's on the card with the florist's box?
> 
> DUN-DUN-DUN! I hope you will leave me some comments. I need them. Really! Thank you very much for reading. You are the best! XOXO


	4. Donuts, Anagrams, & Mountain Laurel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, HELLLOOOO there, dear readers! In the war between my fics, Roses & Bacon won out at the first to update. Thank you SO much for all the kind words. I am inches from posting a new Thrust & Parry and Humility. I promise!
> 
> In this chapter: more boxes from an invisible florist, some lawyerly advice, and our heroine thinks she finally has everything figured out. Rey's reenacting that scene from Risky Business over cocoa puffs and kibble (for Chewie) when she gets a visitor...

Rey woke with a start.

 

Somewhere across Ben’s bedroom, she could hear the chinking sound of dog tags as Chewie lifted his head to check on her before clanking on the hardwood floors once again. He let out a sigh.

 

_It was Saturday._

 

Rey rolled to lie on her front, sinking into the inviting cool of the pillow next to her. The housekeeper Rey inherited changed the sheets every morning. If she stuck her nose deep in the down of Ben’s pillow, she thought she could detect a hint of his scent, though it was just as likely that it was her memory tricking her senses. Either way, she inhaled with unabashed greed. Soap, spice, leather, and whatever magical pheromones were just _him_.

 

Someday, she knew, that smell might go away forever and with it, another part of her.

 

Ever since things became serious between them, they spent nearly every weekend the same way. Rey would wake up early, spooned in Ben’s arms. Turning to face him, she would put her chin on his broad chest, and begin what Ben dubbed _Operation Donut_.

 

Rey was addicted to the fresh, warm donuts at the weekly farmer’s market down the street from Ben’s place. The stand would dip the hot, fried dough, straight out of the fryer, in a river of white glaze and then roll it around in any number of toppings. She liked the ones covered with English Toffee. Ben loved the ones covered in breakfast cereal. Any breakfast cereal. They usually sold out in the first ten minutes.

 

The problem was that Ben also liked to sleep in on the weekends. Rey’s heart ached a little at the mental picture of a sleeping Ben Solo, bare except for black boxer briefs, one leg stuck outside the covers, hugging her close and snoring softly. He was a thing of beauty from the top of his dark, glossy head to the tips of his masculine toes. The idea that she might never have that view again made her lower lip tremble.

 

Those mornings were always the same.

 

First, she would walk her index finger up his jaw to worry the stubble near Ben’s full upper lip, chuckling as he twitched in his sleep. Then Rey would lean up and place her tongue on her favorite spot – that unnamed place where his neck and collarbone met, drawing back to blow on it with a quick puff of cool air. Finally, she would take a lock of her hair and hold it over his nose, waiting for him to reach up to ease the tickling sensation.      

 

Ben would usually grunt and open one dark eye to glare at her before rolling on top of her to pay her back for those small tortures. Rey usually ended up with a big fat hickey and a very satisfied smile when that happened. Sometimes they even made it to the donut stand before they were out of donuts.

 

Last night Rose found her in Ben’s closet, wearing one of his shirts, just inhaling his clean scent. Finn and Rose had volunteered to bring the last of her things from the old apartment and Rose had found her there while Finn hunted for the service elevator to bring up the last of her belongings.  

 

“Oh, Peanut,” Rose had whispered, plopping herself down next to Rey. “Honey, are you sure that you should stay here? This doesn’t seem healthy. I’m so worried about you. Ben’s apartment…those flowers. _All that money._ It seems like too much for anyone to handle all at once.”

 

Rey just rested her head on Rose’s shoulder and hugged her friend, deciding it was better to be silent. Rose and Finn wanted the best for her always. She knew that. She loved her friends so much for worrying about her wellbeing. If she were in their shoes, she would not want to leave them living in the remains of someone else’s life. It was just that unless and until Rey knew in her heart that Ben was really gone, she wasn’t ready to share her feelings with anyone.

 

 Rey thought about the meeting she’d had the day before with Amilyn Holdo.

 

“Are you certain that Ben didn’t leave instructions to send me flowers if anything ever happened to him?” Rey inquired for the third time.

 

Amilyn dutifully examined the cards from the florists again before passing them back to Rey.

 

“No, I’m sorry, Ms. Kenobi. I am unaware of any such arrangements.”

 

For a high-powered attorney, Amilyn had kind eyes. Rey liked her and trusted her immediately. Just as Ben said she could. Those eyes conveyed sympathy, but not pity, and for that Rey was grateful.  When she had gone in to tell her boss that she wouldn’t be coming back to work, she had nearly buckled under the weight of the pity conveyed by her coworkers.

 

“ _Although_ ,” Amilyn continued, shifting in her seat and crossing her legs with unstudied elegance, “even if I _did_ , Ms. Kenobi, I represented Ben. As his attorney, I’m afraid I would be bound to maintain the attorney-client privilege he enjoyed. Even under unforeseen circumstances.”

 

 _Unforeseen circumstances._ It was fascinating exactly how many euphemisms there could be for death in the English language.

 

“Yes, of course. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable,” Rey trailed off, her voice wilting like a plucked daisy.

 

“Not at all,” came her soft reply. “Would it be alright… _may I call you Rey and you called me Ami?_ ”

 

Rey let out a soft sigh of relief. “Yes, _please._ I prefer informality. And right now, it helps me to be around friends who knew Ben in any capacity.”

 

“Great.” Ami cleared her throat, obviously choosing her words with care. “Rey…I may only have been his attorney and an older family friend, but I know that _Ben was_ _a fine man_. The finest. No matter what any of the newspapers would want everyone to believe, that’s a fact to hold close when things seem hopeless. I think…you must be very special to have captured his heart so completely.”

 

She could feel her eyes fill up as they had been doing at strange times ever since the day Rose had called her to tell her that Ben had been murdered.

 

“ _Thank you, Ami._ That means a lot to me.”

 

Amilyn Holdo smiled, though less candidly than just a moment ago. “Now, if you won’t mind a bit of advice, I’d like to offer some.”

 

Rey nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak.

 

“You have access to all the funds you should need for some time to come. The deeds to the properties have been transferred to you free and clear. Honestly, you could live off the interest from Ben’s investments, adopt a small country, and still never have to worry about money again. The priority should be your security. Lando Calrissian and his team are the best in the business. He’s expecting your call. I urge you to call him just as soon as our meeting is over.

 

‘Rey, I don’t want to frighten you, but sooner or later, the press will find out that you are Ben’s heir. When they do, they are going to harass you. They are going to say nasty things and follow you around. When they do, that’s the time to call me so that I can put on my badass lawyer pants and rip through that noise like a ballistic missile. That’s my job. It’s the reason you are paying me. Does that make sense?”

 

“Yes,” Rey whispered, a watery smile finding its way to her face.

 

Ami Holdo’s left eye twitched slightly. The woman didn’t really have tells. She played it tough and straight because her job called for it. That twitch made Rey sit up straight in her seat to listen to what her attorney had to say next.

 

“I also think it worthwhile to consider that whoever shot Ben might not feel any friendlier toward _you_. If I were in your place, I would get one of Lando’s men assigned to you today and plan a long vacation somewhere remote. Keep my number in your cell.”

 

And that had been that. Rey had gathered the stack of florists’ cards and bid her new friend farewell.

 

As Ami had suggested, Rey had spoken with the charismatic and wildly charming Lando Calrissian via teleconference after their meeting. He demanded that she call him “Uncle Lando” just as Ben had since he was a boy. It figured that the man would be a family friend, too. If there was one thing she had learned since meeting Ben, he kept a very small circle.

 

Rey reached over to Ben’s nightstand and grabbed the florists’ cards and her laptop.

 

There had been no flowers last night. It was half the reason she had wandered into Ben’s closet and burrowed herself in a deep cocoon of fine linen and sadness. A package had been waiting for her each of the other eight days since reading Ben’s letter and claiming all his worldly goods.

 

Each card had the name of a flower embossed on it:

 

_**Mountain Laurel** _

_**Carnation** _

_**Peony** _

_**Violet** _

_**Blue Violet** _

_**Lady’s Slipper** _

_**Pasque Flower** _

_**Indian Paintbrush** _

 

It didn’t matter what flower was on the card. The contents of each box never changed. One painted rose and a dozen bacon rosettes. It also hadn’t mattered where Rey chose to sleep. She was stunned and more than a little freaked out when she received the second box at Ben’s apartment the following night. The night after _that,_ Rey slept back at her own apartment just to see if there would be another delivery. Yet another box had been left by an invisible delivery man. And another and another and so on.

 

Rey organized the small rectangles in the order they were sent, wondering again what Ben was trying to tell her. She had already entered each flower’s name in the browser on her phone and read the wikis for them.

 

She bit her lip, considering the possibilities. An anagram perhaps? Rey searched for a decoding software on the internet where she tried every possible combination of words using the names of the flowers. None of the results made any sense in the context of her relationship with Ben. Most of the results made no sense full stop. She never even knew that 'oilnut' was a word.

 

_Start at the beginning, Rey._

 

Entering the first flower in the browser, she read the information for what had to be the tenth time. She could now tell anyone who wanted to know (or bore anyone who didn’t want to know) how to cultivate mountain laurels, what exposures they enjoyed, the temperatures and elevations they preferred, how long they flowered, and _where_ …

 

Rey sucked in her breath, catching a detail she had missed earlier in the week. It was a detail she had seen before when searching for one of the other flowers. Her excitement was almost too much to contain. Her fingers flew with clumsy abandon over the keyboard as she entered the name of each flower again.

 

Ten minutes later, her suspicions confirmed, Rey knew _exactly_ what Ben was trying to tell her. Tears of relief fell from her eyes and she leaped on a delighted Chewie in celebration.

 

Two quick calls, a short text, and the magic of a shiny new black credit card later and Rey was packing everything she could fit into one of Ben’s enormous duffel bags.

 

Amilyn Holdo was right. She and Chewie needed to get away from it all. _Rey knew just the place._

 

Still wearing one of Ben's dress shirts and sporting what he told her was "award-winning bedhead", she skated through the kitchen in a pair of Ben’s fuzzy socks. First, she needed to feed herself and Chewie. Then she would have a little under two hours before security showed up to take her to the airport to board the Solo family's swanky private jet. It was while belting out a cheesy 80s pop song and crunching on Ben's favorite kids' cereal that the front desk notified Rey she had a visitor.

 

Armitage Hux had finally come to pay his respects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, friends...WHAT DOES REY KNOW?
> 
> Your comments and kudos have been so kind and generous. I want to offer my sincere thanks to all of you for your excitement, your emotional investment, and just being plain amazing. Thank you SO MUCH! 
> 
> I hope you will leave me some comments on what those little cards mean! XOXO  
> Next chapter...an awkward conversation, more answers, and...


	5. Armitage Hux, A Play in One Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes us through a most unexpected visit from one Armitage Hux, CFO of the First Order, who makes a startling and welcome revelation.

“ _Ahem_ …” Armitage Hux said when Rey opened the door as if he meant to clear his throat but didn’t truly need to do so. “I…um…apologize for not.. _um_ …ringing you sooner, _Miss Kenobi_. Or…today…that is… _now. A_ t all.”

 

Rey watched in fascination as the ginger-haired man trailed off and flushed to the roots of his bright hair. She doubted he knew, but he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet causing the leather shoes to creak in the awkward silence.

 

It was almost mesmerizing. Like a symphony of fidgeting. If she didn’t know better, she’d say that it was rehearsed.

 

 

“I have come to condole with you,” he blurted out, able to make a whole sentence at last. “I apologize that it has taken me so long _. Mr. Snoke_ bids me share his heartfelt sympathies at your loss.”

 

Snoke? _She just bet_. Rey had no doubt that if Ben was truly dead, the head of First Order was responsible.

 

“Please come in Mr. Hux,” Rey said tightly.

 

“ _Er_ …thank you. I…perhaps we could sit down somewhere and chat for a few minutes?”

 

Rey couldn’t think of a worse time for Armitage Hux to want to sit down and get to know her. He had been lurking on the fringes of her life with Ben ever since they met. He had always ignored her? Why did he need to choose today to talk to her?

 

Rey was also painfully conscious that Ben’s enormous duffel bag and Chewie's dog supplies were sitting next to the door and the man was about to trip over them. 

 

“Oh! Sorry,” Rey apologized, grabbing Hux’s arm before he could trip over the bag. “I was getting ready to… _um_ …donate some things,” she explained.

 

Armitage’s eyes simply widened when he saw the overstuffed bag and nearly everything that Chewie called his own. He simply nodded and moved around the pile.

 

A moment later and they were sitting on Ben’s ultra-chic leather sofa.

 

“Would you like something to drink?” Rey asked graciously.

 

“Yes, please,” he agreed, though Hux shook his head back and forth almost violently.

 

“I’ll be just a moment, then,” Rey said finally, though she did not move one inch.

 

 _What the hell?_ Something was off. A frisson of fear ran up Rey's spine, but she held her ground and waited to see what he was up to. If worse came to worse, Rey knew that Chewie would treat Armitage Hux like one of Ben's favorite leather shoes.

 

They were both silent for several minutes. Rey watched in fascination as Hux made a show of holding out his phone as if she should examine it and then set it carefully and deliberately down in front of them on the glass coffee table. After that strange pantomime, Hux looked from her to the phone several times before he sat far back on the sofa and carefully drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

 

Rey didn’t know whether to run in fear or wait for the show to begin. _What in the world was the man doing?_ She thought of her suspicion that Armitage Hux was Ben’s partner. The nameless, faceless person under years of deep-cover trying to infiltrate Snoke’s organization to bring it down from the inside.

 

Could she trust him? Ben hadn’t mentioned anything in his letter about Rey confiding in Armitage Hux.

 

Chewie took that opportunity to jump on the couch next to her, setting one paw on her thigh. He let out a low growl at Hux who turned strangely red again. Hux had just been warned not to mess with her. Rey began to scratch him behind an ear in reward.

 

Finally, the ginger-haired CFO of the largest criminal enterprise in Coruscant ended her suspense.

 

“Ah, thank you very much for the water,” he said.

 

Rey shook her head in disbelief but played along. “My pleasure. It was _nothing_.”

 

Hux rolled his eyes at her pun but nodded and unfolded a single piece of paper with quiet, deliberate hands. He turned it toward her. Rey could see that there were numbered sentences that were written in large letters with a black permanent marker.

 

The first sentence read, **PLAY ALONG**. **THE FIRST ORDER IS LISTENING**.

 

Rey gulped and looked around as if someone would jump out at any moment. Hux gestured toward the phone again with his chin.

 

Of course. _The phone_.

 

“Miss Kenobi. May I call you Rey?” Hux asked.

 

Rey frowned at him, but answered, “Yes, certainly. Any friend of Ben’s...”

 

He nodded at her and mouthed two words that looked like, “Good girl.”

 

“Excellent. And I hope you will call me Army. All of my friends do.”

 

Rey knew the look on her face must be one of bald skepticism. _Armitage Hux had friends?_ _Who knew?_

 

Rey watched in fascination as one of his thin lips turned up at the corner as if he could read her thoughts and was more than amused.

 

Clearly there was more to this man than met the eye.

 

Army continued, keeping up whatever pretense he had planned. “Rey, our esteemed Chief Executive officer, Mr. Snoke, bade me come here today to express his deepest condolences at the untimely death of Kylo Ren. He extends his sympathy on behalf of the entire staff at the First Order. He wanted you to know that Kylo was like a son to him. Our leader understands that you must be grieving and hopes that this _gift_ will help relieve any _practical concerns_ you may have in the wake of such a loss. He realizes that money is not the answer to what you are experiencing, but it can sometimes make transitioning into a new routine…well… _easier_.”

 

Hux drew a thick envelope from his pocket and made a show of sliding it across the coffee table toward her. Without a word, he pointed to the second sentence on the paper he held.

 

**DON’T ACCEPT IT. IT’S BLOOD MONEY.**

Rey’s eyes grew wide, but she nodded stiffly.

 

Hux pointed to his paper again.

 

**SAY, “THAT’S VERY KIND OF YOU, BUT I AM WELL TAKEN CARE OF.”**

 

Like a robot, Rey obeyed. “That’s very kind of you, Army. And of Mr. Snoke, of course, but I am well taken care of.”

 

Hux grinned at her and nodded with approval. The transformation to his normally dour appearance was nothing less than astonishing. He was _almost_ handsome when he smiled.

 

“I understand, Rey, but I would not be _serving Mr. Snoke_ or acting in the spirit of my _longstanding friendship_ with _Kylo_  if I did not offer my recommendation that you accept his generosity. You never know when you might find yourself in need of a _patron_ …of sorts…to get you through the rough spots, _hmm_? That takes away nothing from the…er… _generous_ _living_ you must make at your job, but Mr. Snoke was quite adamant that you be provided with every opportunity to take time off to grieve as long as you needed without worry.”

 

Sentence number four read, **REFUSE AGAIN, BUT ASSURE ME THAT YOU WILL CALL SHOULD YOU FIND YOURSELF IN NEED.**

Rey made an appreciative sound. Or at least what she thought must be appreciation before investing her voice with a sound that resembled tears. “I’m just honestly _overwhelmed_ …sniff!...Army. Please tell Mr. Snoke that I am grateful for his care. While I cannot accept his offer, I will promise to contact you should my circumstances change. Thank you very much!”

 

Hux mouthed the word, “Perfect!”

 

Tapping the paper again with his finger, Rey obliged Hux by reading the last few longer sentences there. What she read made her lips go numb and the blood drain from her face.

 

**BE SURE TO TELL THAT ASSHOLE THAT I’M ALLERGIC TO ROSES, THAT I WILL EXPECT MY REPAYMENT IN BACON _AND_ BEER, AND TO TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOU. **

**ALSO, TELL HIM THAT _I_ GET TO BE THE ONE GETS SHOT NEXT TIME. HE OWES ME!**

Rey’s eyes welled with tears and her hands swept up to cover her mouth to hold in the shock and relief that settled in her throat.

 

 _Ben was alive_. She knew it. Oh, gods, _she knew it_.

 

Tears spilled over her lashes and Rey quickly swept them away. Now was not the time to lose control. Chewie whimpered with sympathy.

Army watched intently as Rey fought to regain her composure, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

 

Then he winked at her. He fucking winked! 

 

“ _I see_ ,” Hux said with studied reluctance as if there had been no break in their conversation. “Mr. Snoke will be _most_ disappointed. He does so like to be of _help_ to others.” The envelope was pulled back toward him, the heavy paper crinkling loudly before he put it back in his jacket pocket.

 

Rey just sat with mute disbelief. Surely Hux could not expect her to speak coherent sentences after dropping that bombshell in her living room?

 

“If you are certain there is nothing we can do for you in the immediate term, Rey, I will leave you with my card.” Drawing a business card from his other pocket, Hux set it down on the coffee table with a crisp and audible _snap_.

 

She could barely catch her breath, her mind racing toward the time when she would see Ben again. Fortunately, her shock made Rey's voice sound burdened, exactly like the grieving girlfriend she was _supposed_ to be. “ _Thank you very much, Army_. I will be sure to keep this nearby. Please give my best to Mr. Snoke. I am sorry for his loss as well.”

 

“I will tell him. You can be assured. Now then,” he said in a harsh voice much more in line with the person Rey had always supposed Hux to be, “I will set the glass in the kitchen for you and show myself out. I’m sure you must be exhausted and have many things on your mind.”

 

Before she could refuse him, Armitage Hux strode to the kitchen, Chewie and Rey on his heels. Rey watched in silent fascination as Ben’s partner drew a lighter from his pocket, set the paper on fire, and then watched as it burned to ash in the sink. Turning on the water to wash the remains down the disposal, he nodded to her once before striding back out to the living room.

 

Grabbing his phone from the table, Army slid it in his pocket and then strode to the door.

 

“Thank you for taking the time to see me today, Rey," he called, as if from a distance away. "My deepest sympathies on your loss.”

 

With a small bow her way, Armitage Hux swept out the door.

 

Glancing at the clock on the entry table, Rey noted that there was still more than an hour before security would come to take her to the place she believed Ben to be hiding. It felt like an eternity.

 

So Rey did what any woman would do who had just been through a living nightmare like the one she had survived for the last two weeks.

 

She slid to the floor and _totally.fell.apart_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Friends! Thanks for being so patient on this work. RL has been kicking my behind! I haven't abandoned this fic. I actually thought we'd get to find out where a certain man was hiding, but this chapter got longer than anticipated.
> 
> PLEASE leave me some comments! XOXO


	6. Taking Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear Readers! Surprise! Another chapter. Thank you so much for so many wonderful comments! I hope to respond to them all tonight.
> 
> Ah, this chapter. I'm not even going to say anything. I just hope you'll love it.

Chewie was sprawled upside down on the leather couch of the private jet, snoring his doggy snore as all four legs, paws, and copious amounts of floof hung drunkenly in every direction. His favorite stuffed toy, a little brown and white owl-like bird with creepy mournful eyes, sat in a soggy heap on the floor next to him, its squeaker long since destroyed. It had suffered a violent and undignified death, but Chewie still loved it.

 

Rey snuffled to herself. That irony was not lost on her.

 

She sighed, trying to release some of the tension in her body but had no luck. Rey wished down to the marrow of her bones that she could be anywhere near as relaxed as Ben’s beloved dog was at that moment.

 

Ever since the Solo family’s sleek _Silencer_ began to streak west, she had been pacing its plush carpet. She felt sick with worry and anticipation. The cabin steward has been unable to stop the lifted brow when she invaded his space in the galley, lost in her thoughts.

 

She had even refused _snacks_. _Holy gods,_ she thought. Rey really needed to calm down. She could usually eat in the middle of a hurricane. Sandwiches were all-the-time food, right?

 

Lando Calrissian watched her from the seat in the back of the jet, a sympathetic smile on his face. He had long since stopped trying to cajole her into playing cards or listening to endless stories about Ben’s childhood exploits. Neither of them discussed the reason for her trip.  

 

The pilots had not escaped her nervous fixation either. She was at the cockpit door every 20 minutes asking for their exact position. Captain Peavey had the patience of a saint. Rey made a mental note to send the crew a massage gift card or a weekend away or something to thank them for tolerating her special brand of crazy.

 

Plucking at the cards in her hand, their edges softened and frayed from so much handling, Rey ran through the meanings in her mind.

 

 **MOUNTAIN LAUREL** … _Pennsylvania._

 **CARNATION** … _Ohio._

 **PEONY** … _Indiana_.

 **VIOLET** … _Illinois._

If she had interpreted Ben’s clues correctly, she only had to wait to fly over four more states before she’d be with him again.

 

 **BLUE VIOLET** ,

 **LADY'S SLIPPER** ,

 **PASQUE FLOWER** , and

**INDIAN PAINTBRUSH**

 

 

 _Montana._ Ben had to be at the ranch. It was the only thing that made sense. She wanted to scream the walls down around him. How could Ben be so foolish in sending her these cards? She could barely think about the danger he was in, even now, dead to everyone who knew him except for a precious few.

 

Hux’s revelation weighed heavily on her mind and heart. _What if someone followed her?_ She could be leading danger _to_ him. Lando promised that his teams were behind them, guarding against that possibility and that the flight plan was sealed.

 

Still, Snoke’s reach was _unknown_.

 

“Here kid,” Lando insisted, holding out a shot of Correllian whiskey. “I can’t take it anymore. Down the hatch.”

 

Rey started to refuse but knew he’d only insist until she did. Ben always said that his father and his friends believed in the power of a good stiff drink.

 

Rey grabbed it, still in mid-stride, and tossed it back like an alcoholic diving off the wagon. Choking and sputtering, she exhaled over the heat of the liquid on her throat and tongue. As her eyes watered from the shock of the strong spirits, she nodded and held out the empty glass. “Another.”

 

Lando chuckled. “You remind me of Leia.”

 

Rey stopped at that, accepted the second shot, and deadpanned. “Thank you.”

 

Lando laughed louder. “ _You’re welcome_.”

 

The blinding white smile that Rey was certain charmed women the world over flashed at her. “You’re _perfect_ for him.” Lando eyed the large canary-yellow diamond on her hand where it clutched the shot glass.

 

Rey’s eyes widened. Lando _knew_ as well. It made sense, she supposed. Ben would need to have considered security and had a way to stage the drama of his death. Lando Calrissian seemed just the sort of man to have the right connections to help.

 

Amilyn. Hux. _Lando._

 

Rey wondered if Leia knew. She thought back to that terrible day in the coroner’s office. Her emotions seemed so genuine. A widow who had outlived her only child. They had clung to one another and wept with heartbroken abandon.

_That couldn’t have been an act, could it?_

 

As the third shot of alcohol hit the back of her throat, Rey huffed and fell into the seat across from Lando. She had forgotten to eat today.

 

As if on cue, Lando raised a hand to signal the steward and a club sandwich with kettle chips was placed in front of Rey.

 

 _She was starving_. And just a little tipsy.

 

“That a girl,” Lando grinned in approval as Rey tucked into her meal. He poured both of them another shot. “Now. Let me tell you about the time Ben…”

 

Twenty minutes later, sated and pleasantly floating in a whiskey cloud, Rey was barely awake to hear an announcement.

 

“Wisconsin,” came Edrison Peavey’s voice over the jet’s personal address system.

 

**_BLUE VIOLET._ **

 

Three more states.

 

 

~

 

The big black SUV pulled up to the gates of a sprawling ranch.

 

Rey knew from the paperwork that Amilyn had reviewed with her that the property was in the hundreds of thousands of acres. Seeing it in person with its mountains and valleys dotted with fat cattle, bison, and elk, Rey could hardly wrap her head around _owning_ it.

 

A guard who looked more like para-military than rent-a-cop greeted Lando.

 

“Hey, boss,” came a pleasant voice. The man looked across at her and nodded in greeting. “ _Ma’am._ Welcome to the Skywalker Ranch.”

 

Ma’am. _She was just ma’am-ed_! The nerve. If Rey hadn’t wanted so badly to crash through the gate and race to the house, wherever it was, she would have offered some snarky retort. She supposed it was a sign of his training.

 

She’d tell him never to do it again tomorrow. Or never. All Rey wanted was to see Ben and hold him in her arms. Now.

 

“Hey there, Poe,” Lando responded. “How’d you get gate duty, flyboy? You lost as sabacc again, didn’t you?”

 

A dull blush rose up the charming guard’s olive skin. “That I did, sir. Jessica’s a shark. I should have learned my lesson by now, but…what can I say, sir? _She’s pretty_.”

 

Lando burst out laughing and turned to Rey, “Rey, this _horndog_ is our helicopter pilot, Poe Dameron. I promise you that he’s more useful than he looks. In the air and in a good fight.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Poe,” Rey smiled. “Just don’t ever ‘ma’am’ me again.”

 

Lando sputtered and cracked up again as Poe blushed harder. “Yes ma’…er… _ok_.”

 

Poe rolled his eyes at himself and chuckled. “Sorry. The…uh… _caretaker_ should be in the barn this time of day.”

 

Lando merely nodded. “See you later at debrief,” Lando said, regaining a serious mien as he rolled through the swinging gates.

 

Poe nodded and gave his boss a small salute before turning his gaze back to the perimeter of the ranch.

 

As Lando guided the SUV down the long dirt road and through the occasional paddock cattle fence for the next several minutes, Rey tried to take in the beauty, but she couldn’t concentrate. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to meet anyone else today. She knew speaking to the caretaker was important, but didn’t think she had it in her to be civil to anyone else today.

 

 _Please, Ben._ _Please be here._

 

Chewie must have agreed because he barked from the seat behind her, his back-end wiggling as the barn and an enormous timber frame and stone mansion came into view.

 

Lando surprised her by pulling up in front of the barn. Before she could protest that she wanted to head for the house, he had already jumped out and opened the passenger door to let a frantic and barking Chewie jump down and run toward the barn.

 

“Lando,” Rey said with more than a little frustration as she let herself out and rounded the front of the truck toward her bodyguard, “I know that I need to meet the staff here, but I _need…”_

Lando simply raised an eyebrow at her before turning her toward the barn and pointing.

 

And _there_ , with a barking and happy Chewie dancing around his long legs, stood a tall, smiling man with long black hair. Poured into dark jeans, a flannel shirt, and dark brown cowboy hat, his dark eyes captured hers like a tractor beam just as they always did.

 

And then Rey was running. And sobbing. And yelling his name as the tall man caught her in strong arms and buried his face in her hair.

 

_Ben._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So???? What do we think? A few of you guessed what the flowers meant. I hope it was worth it. (And...Lando? And Poe?)
> 
> Please, please leave me some comments. I'd love to know your thoughts. Next chapter is going to be a deliciously smutty reunion told by Ben. Gravy, but I can't wait to write from Ben's point of view! I love writing him. We are also going to get some explanations and hints as to what will happen next. 
> 
> I've upped the chapter number. There's more story to tell! 
> 
> Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> So, yes. I should have been writing my novel. I should have been updating one of the other full-length Reylo fics that I am writing. I should have been cleaning the bathrooms in my house. Instead, I had this idea for a one-shot drop into my brain and I had to follow the muse. It's intended to be a one-shot, but most comments hoped for more!
> 
> Please leave me some comments, kudos, or constructive criticism. I am anxious for your reaction. Love to you all. Thanks for reading!


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